


Crunching (commission)

by The_Baron_Cosmos



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: Casual Sex, F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, Kinktober, Other, Reader-Insert, Study Date, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:34:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26873755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Baron_Cosmos/pseuds/The_Baron_Cosmos
Summary: This was a commission for a pal! It's not exactly crack fic, but you shouldn't take it too seriously, hear? This isn't really supposed to slot right into canon.After joining the Phantom Thieves, Makoto finds herself itching for a little more excitement in every facet of her life, studying included.
Relationships: Niijima Makoto/Reader
Kudos: 11
Collections: Erasermight Kinktober 2020





	Crunching (commission)

It had been a stressful couple weeks for Makoto. While she’d outwardly been projecting a newfound air of confidence since joining the Phantom Thieves, the coming exams had her worried. After all, she felt basically born anew; she’d helped to steal the treasure from Kaneshiro’s palace! How could she go back to her life of study and etiquette after seeing and doing all that?  
So, a few days after clearing the palace, she decides she needs to do something to entertain herself.  
You receive the text as you’re getting up to go home after another day of class. It’s her. You’ve talked a few times before but you’ve never actually gotten a text from her before now. She wants to… Study together? At her house, no less. You knew she had a penchant for tutoring, but you had no idea she took her study partners to her home. Either way, you were worried about the exams, as most students were, so an offer to study with the best was hard to pass up. You shot her back a text of confirmation and she gave you the time and the place.  
Getting to her place was not hard. It was a bit deeper in the city than you expected, but getting there was just time consuming, not difficult. The free time gave you ample opportunity to wonder just what studying with Makoto would be like. You had to imagine it would be rigorous. She was a top student, after all. Someone you could really look up to.  
You took the elevator up to her apartment. The hallway she was on was quite far up, and stepping out, you felt your heart picking up as you began to anticipate just what Makoto might think of your company.  
She answered the door only seconds after you knocked- like she’d been waiting for it. She looked up at you, quirking one eyebrow. “That didn’t take as long as I thought it would,” she admitted vaguely, stepping aside to give you space to walk in.  
Her apartment was quite nice. From your handful of small talk conversations, you gathered that she lived with her adult sister, but you’d always assumed she came from a more… Humble position. Showed you for assuming things, you figured, looking around at the modern glass furniture and large balcony. The table in the kitchen had some books and paper on it, so you naturally drifted toward it, ready to study.   
As you moved to shrug your backpack onto a chair, you feel Makoto’s hand on the back of your elbow. You turned to her, and she’s standing up straight, shoulders back, like she has something to say. You look her over- she’s not in her uniform anymore, wearing now a buttoned blouse just undone enough to be uncouth. How unlike her, you thought, but as she spoke, you realized you may never have actually known who she truly was.  
“Reader,” she began, a command and a request in equal measure, “may I please sit on your face?”  
You almost yelped at that. You thought, maybe she’s teasing, or maybe this is some sort of act, or a test, or something, anything but… That. But she looked up at you with those reddish eyes, looking so very expectant. Obviously, this is what she wanted…  
You saw no reason to deny her that. You nodded quickly, cracking a slightly nervous grin. What the hell were you getting yourself into?  
“I’m glad to hear it,” Makoto said quickly, almost as soon as you agreed. “I’ve got a place for you.”  
How far had she planned this ahead? You followed her as she turned to her living room coffee table, setting her books and papers on it. There was a pillow on the floor in front of it, and you could swear you saw your life flash before your eyes.  
Makoto grinned politely, gesturing to the small throw pillow. “Lay down there, then. I won’t be kept waiting.”  
You gulped, coming down to your knees and laying back against the pillow. You felt like your heart could beat right out of your damned chest. Laying on the floor, you watched as Makoto leaned forward, pulling her skirt down and lifting her legs out of it. She flashed you her polite grin again as she worked her undergarments down her thighs, but her eyes told a different story. The look she gave you was hungry, and a little bit intense. It only made your heart pound harder.  
She sauntered closer, looking down at you. You felt a small bead of sweat on your forehead, and wondered just how embarrassing you looked lying on Makoto’s floor like this. You realized, with a little extra embarrassment, that it didn’t totally matter to you right now.  
Her feet planted on either side of your head, and you looked straight up. It certainly was an imposing view; you could carefully examine the curve of her thighs overhead, the rise and fall of her chest with every breath, the small view of midriff that you could see under her blouse. It was all so much to take in, though, and she was not going to stand there and wait for you to enjoy looking at her.  
Her knees began to fold, and you took a deep breath.  
Her thighs covered your ears, her pubic mound pushed against your nose, and with her leaning forward, all you could see was the bottom of her blouse. Your hands came up to her hips, and she hummed contentedly, lifting her pen.  
You parted your lips, and your tongue met the damp heat willingly. You breathed out through your nose, and she shuddered, grinding her hips down into you. She took a few deep breaths, muttering something you didn’t catch as she opened her book.  
You could almost hear her pen on the paper, the pages shuffling, but with your senses blotted by Makoto, you weren’t even totally sure if you were still alive. You only caught snippets of breath from your nose, every little touch of air painted entirely by the scent of Makoto’s perfume. You lifted one leg up a bit, every muscle in your body feeling tense and taut. Her hips glided over your face slowly, repetitively, and she took full advantage of your cooperation.  
A few quiet minutes later, though, and Makoto spoke up clearly. “You need to do more,” she ordered, looking down at what little of you she could make out from under her. “Do well enough, and… I suppose you could fuck me later, if you’d like.”  
Your mind flashed with that thought, intrigued at the prospect to put it lightly. You had to do a good job, though, just like she wanted.  
So you did. You started slow, learning through practice. Your tongue laid flat against her, then just within her, then you found yourself slipping a hand underneath her thigh to assist in the effort and she made a sort of noise that tells you you’re getting it right. She tapped the table with her fingers, grunting as she’s distracted from her work.  
You could feel her reaching her limit already. She was pulsing, surging and roiling. She made that noise again, and then spoke aloud. “Reader, you’re- I’m close.”  
You grinned underneath her, curling your fingers and pressing gently as your tongue laid flat and firm, a platform for her as her grinding became more and more pointed and inconsistent.  
Finally, she lost self control as the pressure inside her overboiled, and she rode you slowly, steadily, unable to quit for what, to you, felt like a whole minute. She let go of a high whine, letting her head fall back a bit as she put more of her weight on your chin. She took a number of deep breaths, found her composure once again, and commanded, “Don’t you move. I’m not finished studying.”  
You cooperated. What else was there to do? Not that it was much of an effort; after putting in such a determined effort, simply lying there and letting Makoto continue to work with her thighs around your head counted, to you, as a break.  
It must have been half an hour of listening to the muffled noise of her pen on the paper before she finally began to stand on shaky, failing legs. She trembled, cursing herself for letting you make her feel this way. She corrected her blouse, standing with legs bowed, as you sat up and wiped your face with the palm of your hand. The light of the living room seemed too harsh, the sounds too loud compared to the void of being under Makoto.  
She sighed gently and limped over to the kitchen. She made a glass of water, set it on the counter, and folded her arms. “I’m sure you’re thirsty.”  
You had to nod, and you took the water, downing the glass in one. She watched as some of the water spilled down your chin, grinning. “I think you need a break,” she said, beginning to lean over the dining room table with her legs planted a bit wide. “And I have to admit, you performed fantastically.”


End file.
